The Inheritance
by LuminaCarina
Summary: Sirius left the Black Family Estate to Harry. Good. Great, even. Except, it isn't great at all, not with all the people wanting a piece of the pie. Now poor Harry has to go to a court session… (crack, complete and utter crack)


**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter**

**Summary:** Sirius left the Black Family Estate to Harry. Good. Great, even. Except, it isn't great at all, not with all the people wanting a piece of the pie. Now poor Harry has to go to a court session…

**Warnings:** Crack, Parody, OOC-ness, Bureaucratic Mess, Total Wackiness

**Rating: T**

#

Harry was having a normal day. Wake up, make the breakfast, stay out of the way, sulk and mope about Sirius in his room… It was normal. Completely, utterly, devastatingly normal.

Until suddenly it wasn't.

Because there was an owl in his room, imperiously stretching out her foot with a letter from the Ministry, and Hedwig is hooting furiously at the encroachment of her territory, and, just –

It was the Ministry. Sending him a letter. Harry was not ashamed to say that he had clutched his head and groaned for a bit there. Why couldn't they leave him alone? Really, he had wanted to get a letter all summer, and now that he gets one it turns out it's from the Ministry. That right there was Potter luck at its best.

But he took the letter, or, well, _letters_, and the owl, with one last snooty look at him and Hedwig, left.

Harry weighed the letters for a moment. If he threw them out now, could he pretend he had never got them? Probably not. He sighed. He opened one of the letters.

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_We at the British Ministry of Magic congratulate you on and cordially invite you to the division of the worldly possessions of one Sirius III Orion Black, and would like you to – _blah, blah, blah.

Harry's eyes glazed over. As far as he could tell, they were blabbering on about something nonsensical like his inheritance from Sirius. Had he inherited anything from his godfather? Harry didn't think so. But the Ministry apparently did. But… What did Sirius have to give him anyway? He was a wanted fugitive, for all that he was actually innocent.

Harry put the letter down. He reached slowly for the second one, checking to see who it was from – oh Gringotts, how lovely – and tore it open.

_To Harry James Potter,_

_With the death of Sirius III Orion Black, whose will nominated you as his sole heir and successor, you have been granted ownership of Black Family properties, which include but are not limited to: the Family Manor located someplace in London, Britain; homes in the British regions of Kent, Mercia, East Anglia and Northumbria; lands in the British regions of Kent, Mercia, East Anglia and Northumbria; Gringotts vaults currently in possession and under the name of the Black Family._

_Due to the complication of yourself not being a child of Sirius III Orion Black and underage, circumstances have arisen that demand you take part in the court session of the honourable Wizengamot Council, where it will be decided if you will indeed be given what your godfather Sirius III Orion Black has left you._

_Please be at the British Ministry of Magic in London, Britain, at Courtroom Ten, on the 12__th__of August, the year of 1996, at 9 o'clock in the morning._

_We look forward to hearing from the heir of Sirius III Orion Black,_

_Many greetings,_

_Nagnok, _

_Manager of the Black Family Vaults,_

_Gringotts Wizarding Bank._

Harry stared. This was ridiculous. Absolutely so. He was tempted to shred the letters into ribbons, not because they were denying him what he had left of Sirius, though that played a part in his irritation, but because they were dragging him to court because someone didn't like that he was inheriting from Sirius. Honestly.

He fell back onto his bed and closed his eyes. He could already tell that this was going to be one giant headache.

#

He was right. Well, not completely because it was so much more than he had predicted, but he was _right._ Dumbledore turned up. The Headmaster came with a benign smile and tired eyes, and subjected himself to Harry's questions with no complaint.

''Well, my boy, the Black family is large and widespread, and has many descendants. Those of them with the strongest claim will come and ask that they be given what Sirius has left to you. It is not only greed motivating them.'' He hastily explained when he caught sight of Harry's expression. ''They will ask for it because they consider it their legacy, or they wish it for their children, or were called there by pure sentimentality.''

Harry scowled. ''Why do they have to want it now? Why not sooner?''

''Because now Sirius is known to have been innocent.'' Dumbledore said simply.

''You cleared him?''

''Ah, indeed we have. But now that the Black Family name is no longer tainted by Sirius' crimes, the longing for the prestige it once brought has reignited. Many would want that prestige to be linked to them and theirs.''

Harry thought it over. It didn't sound as bad as he had imagined it, he grudgingly admitted. But that still didn't mean he liked it.

His uncle gave a strangled croak from where he was sitting on the couch, and Aunt Petunia quickly shut him up by digging her nails in his arm. Harry snorted a bit in his tea, and Dumbledore hummed obliviously from his position to Harry's right.

''So then, this will turn out to be some long, arduous process which will cost me more time and money that it's worth, won't it?'' He complained blankly.

Dumbledore chuckled. ''Oh no, my boy. Those who are trying to disprove your claim will be paying for it, since they will be the ones impeding the legal process. But you will need to be present there at all times, yes.''

Harry sighed, long and obnoxious. ''Oh alright. But I still don't like it!''

#

''Tough luck, mate.'' Ron clapped him on his back, and Hermione kept on chattering excitedly about the laws and tradition and Merlin knows what, with wild hand gestures thrown in for good measure.

''I'm sorry you have to go through this, Harry.'' Mrs Weasley said, a bowl of porridge held out for him absent-mindedly and avoiding Hermione's arms as they waved around. ''I remember when I married Arthur. Ooh, how angry my mother was. I had a good bit of land and money to bring into our marriage, but my mother refused to give me a single Knut if I didn't give up on marrying Arthur. Of course I married him. Look at what we have now, seven beautiful kids, but my mother didn't see it that way. She was one crafty lady, I tell you. But stubborn, and far too conceited for her own good.''

Ron and all of his brothers present at the table rolled their eyes, and mouthed the words their mother was saying.

Mrs Weasley looked distantly into the air, and smiled a smile both dreamy and bitter. ''We aren't wealthy like my family used to be, but we're happy. I should have got the Prewitt Estate after my family died, what with Fabian and Gideon being – well. But there were others, cousins from all sides, and with Arthur being who he is… Well. As I said, we're happy. But I do wish the boys could have seen the Prewitt Manor.'' She busied herself with stirring the porridge a tad more energetically than usually.

Harry looked at Ron, but he, along with the rest of the Weasley family, was occupied with eating breakfast. Hermione was still muttering to herself under her breath. Tonks caught his eyes and shrugged, miming locking her mouth. Harry got the message. He ate his porridge.

#

The day of the Court Session, Harry had been stuffed in robes that were both itchy and had lace on them, so Ron kept giggling at him. Of course, then he and his brothers, along with Ginny and Hermione, got special occasion robes to wear, too, and suddenly Harry's situation wasn't funny at all.

Grimmauld Place was mysteriously empty that day, but Harry was far too entranced in his own misery to care.

Not even Voldemort seemed so awful now when he was faced with the possibility of the session dragging on for years. Hermione had been oh so helpful with providing examples of previous cases of similar nature. Harry had wanted to cry when she gleefully told him of the case in which some pureblood family refused to pass on the land their cousin had intended for her husband to have, all because he didn't have their blood and they hadn't been married long enough for a child to be born. What happened then was a mess of cousins competing over who got the land, none of them willing to divide the land or share it.

There were other cases, all of which seemingly ended up as petty arguments and shouting matches. It could get even more complicated, Percy had said, when families with different structure of inheriting married. For example, when a patriarchal and a matriarchal family intertwined, the product was a bureaucratic nightmare of figuring out which child was the heir to what. Not to mention when the father was from a family where only sons, or the oldest son, inherited, and the mother from a family where all children got something.

''Don't worry, Harry.'' Fred – or is it George – grinned at him. ''It'll work out. 'Sides, you have double claim on the stuff. Your grandmother was a Black, I think. We're actually cousins, you know.''

Before Harry could process that, he prowled away with his twin in tow, tugging at his collar.

#

The Ministry was full of people. Harry sincerely hoped not all of them were there to lay claim on his inheritance.

''They're witnesses.'' Whispered Hermione. ''And Ministry officials. Rather look over there.''

Harry looked to where she had nodded her head and saw a gaggle of fancily dressed people, among them Mr and Mrs Malfoy. Harry made face, only to be clapped about his head by Bill Weasley.

''Don't do anything rash, Harry.'' He warned.

''Fine, fine. I'll be a good boy.''

The narrowed eyes from the curse breaker told him exactly how much his words were trusted. None at all.

#

''My father was Cygnus III Licorus Black, son of Pollux Altair Black, the Head of House Black before Orion Scorpius Black took the mantle as the eldest son. That is a direct descent by blood, and given that I was raised as a Black and my son has Black blood from my husband's side of family as well, from the second marriage of Misapinoa Black to Darius Malfoy in the nineteenth century, I am certain that this honourable court will allow my son to inherit what was so cruelly held from him by my dear cousin Sirius.''

Mrs Malfoy had brought with her a variety of documents and family charters and small inheritances, all of them there to prove undeniably that she was a daughter on the Black Family, and that it is only just that Draco becomes the new Head instead of Harry himself.

The Wizengamot members were nodding along with her explanation, some of them with pleased looks and others barely keeping themselves awake. Harry was rather sure that they would give her whatever she wanted if she just stopped talking and lulling them to sleep.

The Ministry official in charge, one Clarion Gamp, startled and coughed. ''Er, yes, the Wizengamot Council thanks you for your contribution, Madam Malfoy. Next is… Andromeda Tonks.''

Harry was sorely tempted to bash his head against the wall when a woman disturbingly similar to Bellatrix walked out. And then he caught sight of Tonks shrugging apologetically at him, mouthing ''my mom'' to him, he almost followed through with it.

''Honourable Council.'' Mrs Tonks curtsied at them, her eyes studiously fixed on the marble floor, and Harry caught the rage on Mrs Malfoy's face. She hadn't curtsied at them.

''I am Andromeda Hesper Tonks, born Black. Daughter of Cygnus III Licorus Black, son of Pollux Altair Black, who was the Head of House Black before Orion Scorpius Black took the mantle.''

Before Mrs Tonks could continue, Mrs Malfoy rose to her feet, flushed to the roots of her hair. ''What right do you have to be here, sister? Honourable Council,'' she turned to Mr Gamp, ''my sister was disowned by our father for marrying a muggleborn. And even if she were not, she has no sons of her own, only a single daughter. Surely you will not allow her to beg off what is rightfully of my son's.''

''Madam Malfoy, Mrs Tonks – ''

''Oh be silent, sister.'' Snapped Mrs Tonks. ''I was not about to ask for my daughter be named the Head. What I wanted was for her to be given the dowry she was promised by our cousin Sirius.''

The courtroom exploded in whispers. Mr Gamp tried to get attention. ''Mrs Tonks, your cousin was a wanted fugitive at the time, if you have met with him then we would – ''

Mrs Tonks waved him off. ''He promised it to me back when we were young, after I was disowned. He was still the heir then, and he promised me he would not leave my children to live in shanties. He promised me a dowry for any daughters I might have, and an estate for any sons. I call for that promise to be fulfilled. Does my daughter, one of the best Aurors in the Ministry, trained by Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody himself, not deserve it?''

Harry was starting to see the hilarity in this. Mr Gamp was clearly intimidated by Tonks' sharp-eyed mother, and was stumbling blindly in his search for an answer that wouldn't alienate an entire Ministry Department or get him arrested for not following procedures.

He gathered up his courage. ''The Council will consider your request, Mrs Tonks. Do you have any hard proof of this promise?''

''No, I do not. Is my word not enough?'' Mrs Tonks glared.

''The Council will consider your request.'' He repeated tiredly. ''Next!''

It was Mrs Weasley who stood up now. Ron and the twins were shell-shocked, but Ginny and the others seemed as if they had expected this. Harry watched on in growing incredulity.

''I am Molly Clarisse Weasley, born Prewitt. I am the daughter of Marcus Prewitt and Clarissa Prewitt, born Max. My aunt by marriage was Lucretia Prewitt, born Black.'' She rose her voice to be heard over the rising sounds of protests. ''After the tragic deaths of my brothers, Fabian and Gideon Prewitt, the Prewitt Estate was denied to me and given to my cousin Bilius Prewitt instead. After his death soon after, it passed to my aunt and his mother, Lucretia Prewitt nee Black, and into the hands of the Black Family after her own death. It was denied to me because I had no sons to speak of, but I have six sons now, and I ask that the Prewitt Estate be returned to its rightful owners, along with all its lands and monies.''

There was a hush in the courtroom. Then it all exploded into noise. People were shouting over each other, wanting to be heard no matter what, and Hermione looked appalled at the lack of discipline.

''Mrs Weasley, the belonging of the Prewitt Estate was given to the Black Family over twenty years ago, and it is a closed case.'' Mr Gamp sounded baffled.

Mrs Weasley squared her shoulders. ''It was closed because I had no male children. I have six sons now. I ask for my family's legacy to be returned to us.''

Mr Gamp sighed, looking like a broken man. ''The Council will consider your request, Mrs Weasely.'' He repeated what he had told Mrs Tonks. ''Next!'' He called.

#

People came and went, asking for lands, monies, homes, dowries… It was a madhouse. Madam Longbottom had called upon her relationship with her brother's wife Callidora Black, and asked for Callidora's estates, that had been returned to the Black Family after her death, to be given to Neville.

Vincent Crabbe's father had come, talking about Irma Crabbe who had married Pollux Black and asked for her dowry to be returned to them.

A man Ron had recognized as Mr Yaxley came, asking for gold on account of his great-aunt, Lysandra Yaxley, who had married Arcturus I Black.

There were Ernie Macmillan and his uncle, calling on Melania Macmillan, the wife of Arcturus III Black. Marcus Flint and his brother and their aunt, Ursula Black nee Flint. Millicent Bulstrode's mother, mentioning her great-aunt Violetta.

Harry watched it all sleepily, waiting for his turn to come. He watched as family relation were dug up, old scandals of pre-marital pregnancies and bastard children aired in public, as children cried and women fought each other with perfectly manicured nails. It was absolutely, completely and utterly, devastatingly hilarious.

Finally, his turn came.

He sighed long-sufferingly once he had the floor, trying to convey exactly what he thought of this whole business, and began. ''I am Harry James Potter, son of James Charlus Potter, son of Dorea Elladora Potter, born Black, who was the daughter of Cygnus II Black. I believe that is sufficient blood claim, is it not?''

Mr Gamp looked relieved to avoid the recounting of family members and who married whom. Harry continued.

''My second, and stronger claim, is that my godfather, Sirius III Orion Black, named me his sole heir and successor, due to the fact that he didn't have any kids of his own. This whole trial was unnecessary. Thank you very much for listening, I expect a letter from Gringotts telling me I was given everything Sirius and the Black's owned, and unless I call you my close and personal friend I don't want you complaining or asking favours of me, at me, or for me. Goodbye.''

He turned around and walked out of the courtroom, hearing a dead silence as he left. He left the speechless, how lovely.

#

''I thought I told you not to do anything rash!''

Harry rubbed his head wearily. ''They were annoying and unwanted. I want to go back to Grimmauld Place and just forget this ever happened.''

They went back to Grimmauld Place.

Harry did his best to forget the session had ever happened, and was mildly successful at it. Until, that is, the war with Voldemort ended and he suddenly had to deal with paperwork from the Ministry, from Gringotts, from thin air. He wished he had just let that bastard Malfoy have it.

#

**This was crack. Know that this was crack. But also know that this is possible, and happens here where I live every time someone dies. My great-grandmother died almost two years ago and the family is still arguing who gets what house, which part of the land or what bank account. **


End file.
